


wash the dust from under from under your fingernails

by icymapletree



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Big Brother Peter Parker, Gen, Nightmares, Parent Tony Stark, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 11:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icymapletree/pseuds/icymapletree
Summary: There is nothing Tony wants more than for his kids to have at least one peaceful night of dreaming. But the cries that he hears indicate that tonight is not that night.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	wash the dust from under from under your fingernails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mr_Lonely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Lonely/gifts).



> hi Mr_Lonely, hope you enjoy!!! i had a lot of fun writing these prompts (:
> 
> prompts: platonic cuddling, peter being a big brother, and nightmares
> 
> **EDITED 11/16/20**

Peter scrubs his hands together furiously. The dust is under his fingernails, sitting like a film over his skin.

It follows him like an ever present storm cloud, staining his skin so that blood doesn’t have to. 

The dust turns to clay when it meets the water in the sink, clogging up the drain so that the bathroom is filling, filling so high that it pours onto the floor like a waterfall.

His shoes are saturated in murky water, causing them to squish as he tries to run away. The world behind him stays firmly planted behind him, and it won’t go away. 

He screams, he calls for Tony, but the room is spinning, and there’s nothing he can do when he is thrown onto the floor of the Stark cabin. It smells like smoke and war, and it clicks together like a puzzle when he looks up at his family members, who are distraught and looking at their hands like they aren’t as permanent as they thought. 

Morgan reaches for him, tears running down her cheeks. She whines his name, but her fingers start to dissolve and crumble onto the floor. 

There’s a spattering of dust on the carpet, and Pepper reaches for her child’s remains. They cascade through Pepper’s own disappearing hands, the pieces of their bodies muddling together. Tony embraces his wife as they both dissolve onto the ground.

May is the last to go, and she berates Peter for failing them. Her criticisms - while indecipherable - ring in Peter’s ears as she joins them on the shag carpet.

Peter wants to become dust too, but his body doesn’t join them. He just falls to the floor of the fiery cabin and cries, screaming their names.

Tony heard Peter’s screams even through the curtain of sleep. He leapt up out of bed, throwing open his bedroom door and ignoring Pepper’s cries of indignation for him to come back to bed.

His socked feet made dull thuds on the floor, a sound he prayed wouldn’t wake Morgan up. It’s a hopeless thought - if she wakes up, it will be because of Peter’s throaty screams.

When Tony was finally able to shove open Peter’s door, the kid wasn’t even on his bed-- he was in a tangle of sheets on his floor. Tony wasn’t able to spot the boy’s brown curls in the mess. 

He could see an arm, a leg, and another arm thrashing, and Peter was shouting _so loud_ \-- but his yells were nonsensical. 

Tony was able to hear his name in the mess of sounds, and for a moment he’s frozen in fear-- until Peter’s forehead popped out of the knotted blankets. He knelt by Peter’s side and gently brushed back his curls.

“Buddy. Hey Peter, kid, it’s time for you to wake up. It’s not real, Peter. Kid, I’m here with you, I’m okay. Morgan’s okay, and so are May and Pepper,” he said. Tony wants nothing more than to take Peter’s hand and squeeze like he does with Morgan, but he’s learned that lesson. The brittle bones of an old man don’t do well in the hands of a spider-kid who’s not in charge of their strength. 

Peter started to pull away from his nightmare, but Tony was not getting all the way through to him. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that the kid’s seeing - he’s been through so much at such a young age.

“Peter,” Tony said again, with a little more force now that the kid isn’t flailing his limbs with the power superhero. 

The kid’s eyes snapped open, and he’s a flurry of apologies in a sleep-heavy voice. “Sorry, sorry, oh my God, I’m so--“

Tony’s hand was a grounding weight on his shoulder. “No reason to be sorry, kid, you can’t help it.”

“But it shouldn’t happen.”

“No, it shouldn’t.” Tony took a deep breath. “But it’s not your fault. Do you want to go back to bed? I’ll stay here with you.”

Peter was way too quick to shake his head. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

That was strange. “Are you sure? Let me at least help you out of the blankets, buddy.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I need to change my PJs. I’m really sweaty,” Peter said with a humorless chuckle. “I do need some help, though.” He tries to gesture, but his arms are bound to his side.

Tony wasted no time helping Peter, he got an arm out first, then the other arm, and using his newfound leverage, Peter was able to wriggle out.

“I’m okay now, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for my kid.” He hummed. “Did you get hurt when you fell at all?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll be right down.”

Tony looked at him hesitantly, but got up and walked to the door. “See you in a minute,  
bud.”

When Tony left the room, Peter exhaled and headed to his en suite bathroom. He washed his hands until they’re red and raw - because he _needed_ to get rid of the dust under his fingernails. He scraped and scratched, and when he felt like the dust had been washed away, he used a bit of hand cream that he stole from May.

Peter finally felt comfortable enough to go downstairs. He made sure to be quiet enough in order to not wake Morgan up. 

He climbed down the stairs, and Tony was where Peter guessed he’d be - hunched over a whining kettle. It hissed and then it screamed, and Tony poured the boiling water into two mugs with tea bags.

Peter gently flopped onto the couch and reached for the blanket that was draped over the back. It was a quilt that Tony made during the Blip - Peter does not envy Morgan and Pepper for the weird hobbies that Tony picked up during that time. For goodness sake, they own an alpaca named Gerald.

Tony slid into the spot next to Peter and passed the kid his mug. Peter flinched a little when the hot ceramic touched his sensitive fingers, but the tea inside was good enough for him to forgive the mug’s little mishap. Only the best for Tony Stark.

Peter set it on the glass coffee table next to him, and Tony passed his own mug to Peter for him to set on the table as well. The older man drug his feet up onto the couch, as Peter curled further into himself.

Tony’s hands eventually made their way to Peter’s hair and made work of pulling out all of the snags. His hair was damp with sweat, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to care.

His head was busy with trying to believe that the miracle next to him was really real. He didn’t know where he’d be without Peter. He’d have probably died from alcohol poisoning.

Tony shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory of when he almost accidentally _did_ in the thick of his grief. But, Peter’s here now, and he can’t spend too much time in the past.

The kid had finally settled in, but Tony couldn’t seem to lull him to sleep, even when he brought out some light singing. It’s an Italian lullaby, something his mother used to sing to him, and it feels strangely intimate. No ears except for Morgan’s and Peter’s got to hear Tony sing.

His best tries didn’t do much, Peter’s eyes stayed firmly planted open. His movements did get more and more lethargic, but no matter what Tony did, he couldn’t get those big brown eyes to close.

“What’s wrong, kid?” he finally asked, and gently pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead to make up for talking during the silence. That was usually one of their rules - to let the silence sit.

“Nothing really,” he mumbled, his spider-sense a small hum. He’s chosen to ignore it - sometimes it’s a bit on the fritz after a nightmare.

“You wanna watch a movie?”

“Moana,” he said quietly, “Although Morgan might kill me for watching it without her.”

“She’ll deal,” Tony smiled, reaching for the remote and turning on the movie.

Peter hummed along with the songs, and his eyes stayed open. Tony’s tried rubbing his back, doing nothing, and even going back to playing with the kid’s hair. He’s tried singing softly with the movie, but that only seems to encourage the kid more.

When he finally seemed to settle in, Tony breathed a sigh of relief. But it’s too soon, because Peter suddenly straightened up, as stiff as a board, his eyes wide open.

He rushed to Morgan’s room, faster than Tony’s seen him move out of the suit. Fear shot like lightning through Tony’s veins, and he was up too, as fast as his old bones could handle.

All of his questions are answered when he saw Peter sitting on Morgan’s bed, talking her down from a panic. Tear tracks shone on her cheeks in the glow of her nightlight.

It looked like Peter had this handled, and there was no use in Tony stepping in and mucking things up. Although, Peter _was_ using similar words to the ones that Tony used with him, _oh God,_ this is not how things should be--

“You wanna watch Moana with Daddy and I?”

Morgan nodded quickly, and Peter scooped her into his arms. She tucked her head into Peter’s shoulder, and Tony couldn’t help but feel guilty. Was it his fault that his children couldn’t stop their fear even in their sleep?

“You coming, Tony?” Peter asked on the top step of the stairs, shifting his weight from one leg to the next.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He followed Peter to the couch, and looked at their now cold tea with a smile. 

Peter started Moana over, and set Morgan on his lap, as he brushed her hair away from her eyes. He patted the spot next to him on the couch, and Tony quickly joined them.

Peter sang over exaggeratedly for Morgan, and she giggled at everything he did. Eventually, exhaustion won over, and she fell asleep clinging to Peter like an octopus.

“I heard her, you know,” Peter said after some time. “I heard her crying, and I knew that I couldn’t let her feel that way. And I couldn’t let you deal with another crying kid tonight. Because what I felt when I heard Morgan crying, you feel that times one thousand.”

“How did you hear her?”

“I _am_ a superhero, Tony. If anything, I’m good for hearing abnormally well.” He elbowed Tony with a smile.

Tony returned that smile. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“For what?” Peter asked, and the grogginess that Tony has been hoping for all night is finally creeping in.

“For bringing you and Morgan into this.”

Peter turned to look at Tony, and forcefully yet calmly said, “I chose this life. I would’ve done it with you or without you. You made it safer for me, Tony. Without you, I’d probably be dead.” 

He glanced at the TV, where Moana is plunging into the Land of the Monsters. “As for Morgan, it’s not your fault. You retired for her. You came out of retirement to save half of the world and then went right back to retirement because you thought it’s what's best for her. You put her - and me - ahead of your own needs, and that’s what makes you a good father, Tony.”

Tony looked at Peter and then quickly looked away, and in that short time, he realized that he will never be able to express to Peter how much his words meant - and how much _he_ meant to Tony. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

But when he looked back at Peter, the kid was fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/icymapletree)!! <3


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